Alone
by Lord-Cthulu-Speaks
Summary: Kyle is rejected after confessing romantic feelings for Stan and decides that he no longer has anything to live for


Tears ran down his normally pale cheeks, which now flamed a deep red of emberassment. He watched as Stan passed his phone back and forth between his friends, all in turn laughing at the text message that had been sent to him and looking in the direction of the redhead. Never before, even at the expense of one of Eric Cartman's cruel jokes, had he felt so humiliated as he did now.

***

Kyle and Stan had always been the best of friends. Even one lacking sight could clearly tell that this was a fact that was not soon to change.

But of course, the facts never changed. The boys did.

Stan was always destined to rule the hierarchy of high school life. He was naturally built to excel at athletics, which always put him in the good graces of the female population. As the two boys progressed through their freshmen year of high school, Stan became more and more aware of this fact. He embraced it, aware less and less of the growing distance that he was putting between himself and his lifelong friend by doing so. By the time he realized in the slightest what he had done, Kyle was long gone.

***

Kyle was always there for his friend, and no matter how it had pained him, he had resolved that if Stan found popularity more important than their friendship, Kyle wasn't going to make a fuss about it.

But that didn't stop his panging loneliness to keep him awake long into the night on many occasions.

Months after he would have been able to do anything about it, Kyle realized that he felt more than friendship for his oldest friend. Relatively alone in life now, he would silently lament to himself, his sadness giving into depression, the depression giving way to desperation. He began to need the aid of painkillers to get himself to sleep at night, and he had occasionally cut himself. Finally, thoughts of suicide began to surface regularly in his mind.

Out of pure desperation he had sent a full confession to his oldest friend in the world, hoping to find some relief...

***

...But Stan had instead opted to betray and humiliate him for an audience.

Rather than allowing them the pleasure of comtinuing to watch him cry, Kyle rose and made his way to his locker. He resigned himself to the knowledge that his last resort, his plan all along, for the more cynical side of him knew that his attempt would never work.

He opened the metal door, enjoying the squeak that it made in the empty hallway for the last time. He groped around in the front pocket of his bookbag until he nicked his knuckle on it. Slipping his fingers around the handle, he lifted his tiny knife from the fabric that imprisoned it.

Taking a quick look around, he was satisfied that no one was watching. He slipped the small object into the sleeve of his sweatshirt, and slowly moved the door closed again, dissapointed that the aged metal made no noise this time.

But he had no time for something so trivial.

He set a brisk pace for the boy's bathroom, taking another casual look around to be sure he wasn't being observed. The large wooden door swung open easily enough with a tremendous creak and he stepped inside, letting it swing shut of its own accord.

He moved to the opposite corner, to the mirrors hanging on the wall. He wanted to watch himself do it. He wanted to watch himself dispose of the one person that he truly hated the most.

The blade had been sharpened and resharpened, so this was sure to be quick. He raised the blade to the white flesh of his neck, and was not surprised to feel the blood throbbing just beneath the surface. He prepared to push down...

...when he saw a face, pale with fear and framed in dirty blonde hair appaer behind him.

For a moment neither of them moved. Or spoke. Or breathed. Kyle found his voice hard to locate, but Kenny spoke first. He only said one word, Kyle's name. He said it in a low tone, the tone of one who does not quite beileve what he is witnessing.

Kyle's eyes were wide with fear, like a trapped animal. In his desperation, he had not been able to smell the blonde who had come into the bathroom for a smoke.

Kenny spoke his name again, with slightly more volume to his voice. He was moving slowly toward Kyle, as one does when approaching a dog that may bite. Kyle sensed his proximity, but was unable to break himself from the trance that Kenny seemed to have put him in. It wasn't until the blonde's hand closed over his own, the one holding the knife, that he was once again able to move. His first instinct was to pull the knife free and finsh what he had started, but Kenny was already loosening his fingers and taking the deadly peice of metal from his grip. When he heard the audible sound of the knife hitting the tiles on the floor, his mind became cloudy with emotion and his cheeks were covered in fresh tears. He collapsed against Kenny and began to sob, began to bawl on the chest of a friend that he had lost touch with many years before. The streams became torrents when the blonde wrapped his now trembling arms around his back and squeezed him gently. Kyle could never remember feeling such warmth radiating from another human body before. Kenny rocked him gently back and forth, offering no words, but silently setting his chin into the curls on the top of Kyle's head. Both hearts were punding furiously with fear, and both could feel this of the other.

When it became apparent that Kyle's sobbing was not going to dissapate anytime soon, Kenny opted to do something drastic. Something he himself had only dreamt of doing.

In one liquid movement, he tilted the redhead's head up and pressed his lips firmly against Kyle's.

As if by magic, the redhead's sobbing stopped. His breath hitched in his throat, and his eyes widened as much as he could widen them. He tensed mometarily, before relaxing completely. At this Kenny opened his eyes and pulled back, hoping that he would find no anger or disgust in Kyle's face. He was delighted to instead find a wide-eyed Kyle staring at him with surprise, but not necessarily the bad kind.

"Why?" Kenny whispered, not even sure if Kyle would be able to hear him. He felt a pang as Kyle's eyes filled with tears again.

"You don't know what it's like to be alone like I do" Kyle whispered back, his voice catching.

Kenny studied his face for a minute. Then, more slowly, he leaned back down and kissed him again, but instead of pulling back after he was done, he pulled Kyle's head up to rest on his shoulder. His voice cracking, Kenny whispered into the redhead's ear.

"You'll never be alone again"


End file.
